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Monday, July 23, 2012

Spirit Binder by Meghan Ciana Doidge

Please welcome Meghan with her book Spirit Binder to The Mystique!

Spirit
Binder

Book
One of the Cascadian Chronicles

Genre:
Fantasy: Paranormal, Epic, Historic

Description:

Spirit Binder is a fantasy set a thousand
years after spirit (aka magic) rises to take back the world in an apocalyptic
event. It is book one of the Cascadian Chronicles.The first book of the Spirit
Bound young adult series, TIME WALKER, will be released in the fall of 2012.

Blurb:

Theo
woke severely injured, covered in blood, and missing ten years of her
life. Just to complicate matters further, Theo was born under a prophecy;
one that has rabid followers with three different interpretations, all of whom
are willing to sacrifice her in order to fulfill it.

Not
knowing if she can trust the stranger she’s betrothed to, the warrior visiting
her dreams, or even her own mother, Theo tries to piece together her past only
to find that her present is far more dangerous. It’s the power of her own
blood that scares her most of all. This is a responsibility Theo never wanted,
and a destiny she cannot deny, “All because of a prophecy she was trying not to
believe in, but kept fulfilling.”

A
little later on, it might have been weeks for all she knew, she made it to her
feet, more because her knees were hurting too badly to carry her any longer, rather than any great achievement on her part.

She still couldn’t see in the dark.
She found handholds, smoother edges in the rock walls and practically pulled
her upper body forward until one of her legs was forced to kick in and step
forward to prevent a possible forward fall.

The tunnel, that was her best
estimate as to where she was, started slanting upwards, which didn’t make going
forward any easier, but led her to believe she was close to something; an exit
hopefully.

Light appeared.

Just a sliver, but it hurt her eyes.

She reached for it, with her hands
this time. She wasn’t stupid enough to reach for unknown light with her mind;
lots of magic masqueraded as light. Plus, her hands were vaguely working again.

Her hand covered the light; she
spread her fingers and realized she might be feeling a crack.

The light filtered in through some
sort of crack.

She continued to trace the crack,
and after eons, her brain informed her that she might have found a door of some
sort, though not a handle.

She felt like it was time for a
break, and leaning next to the little crack of light seemed appropriately
calming, so she did just that.

Except the crack didn’t stay in
place. The weight of her body widened it, and she found herself stumbling forward
into a room.

A room filled with a lot of books.

She seemed to have just come through
a bookshelf, which was a little strange and obvious all at the same time.

A woman stood behind a large desk.
Everything about her was perfectly poised, from her smooth, bobbed hair to her
fine, but simply cut, silk dress. She removed a pair of reading glasses to
reveal eyes that were almost too green. Despite her words, the woman didn’t
actually look all that surprised to see her ‘darling’ coming through the
bookcase.

“I have?” She couldn’t remember,
except that she was fairly sure she should’ve been fairly easy to find, if
she’d been missing at all, in the secret tunnel behind the bookcase. Wouldn’t
that be the first place to look?

“I shall call the healer; you’re
bleeding on my carpet. Yes, I know it’s annoying that it insists on covering
that section of the library floor; it seems to revel in being a tripping
hazard, but, none the less, your blood is too valuable to feed such common
beings.”

The woman skirted the desk and moved
toward her. Every cell in her body suddenly screamed at her to move, to run, or
at least to attack, but she was incapable of doing so. Something was wrong here.
Or, something was supposed to be wrong here. Something about this woman? Other
than the obviously dyed red hair. No one had hair that dark red naturally, did
they? It actually matched the ruby necklace nestled at the woman’s neck.

The woman stopped a few feet away.
She might have been in her late forties, but could have been younger. The power
that emanated from the woman was painful, and she actually convulsed when it
brushed against her. The woman looked a little aghast at the discomfort she
caused, and somehow pulled all that power, power that seemed too vast to
contain, back inside of her. The convulsions stopped.

“Sorry, darling. I forgot how
sensitive you are.” The woman reached a tentative hand out to her, but didn’t
move forward to complete the touch.

“Mother?”

“Yes, darling?”

“My head hurts.”

“I know dear, but it will get
better. It will all be better now that you are home.”

That was it.

This was home.

She hadn’t recognized it until her
mother had pointed out that fact, but now she understood. This was where she’d
grown up. She’d had friends and teachers here, and her mother …

“Something happened.”

“Yes, darling, someone took you
away, but I’ve got you back now. Everything will be fine now.”

She decided now would be a good time
to kneel again. The carpet rose up to break her fall.

Her mother called out for help, yet
she wasn’t distressed. No, even in the haze that coated her eyes, she could see
her mother’s satisfied smile. Which was a bit odd, wasn’t it?

Other people soon arrived. Her
mother never did touch her, though her hand hovered over her forehead a few
times, and she, huddled in the hovering carpet, gave in to the ministrations of
hands and magic that felt familiar, yet distant, like tasting something in
memory.

“Theodora, spirit-predestined,
daughter of my blood, is home,” her mother, rather formally, announced. There
were murmured answers, but she couldn’t distinguish the words.

Theodora.

That was her name.

Funny, it didn’t sound right. As if
it didn’t belong to her.

Only later did she remember she’d
been wrong about the Slurper creature. It had been cleaning from the inside
out.

She also remembered she wasn’t to
address her mother as ‘mother’ or ‘mom’, but as Your Majesty or, in private,
Rhea, but she noticed her mother hadn’t seemed to mind being addressed
incorrectly.

Then, she succumbed to the welcoming
darkness.

About
the Author:

Meghan
Ciana Doidge is an award-winning writer based out of Vancouver, British
Columbia, Canada. She has a penchant for bloody love stories, superheroes, and
the supernatural. She also has a bit of a thing for chocolate, potatoes, and
sock yarn; though not all together, that would just be yucky.